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http://www.archive.org/details/alicethorntonadaOOcambiala 


ALICE    THORNTON    ADAMS 


1887-1908 


"  To  those  who  knew  thee  not,  no  words  can  paint 
And  those  who  knew  thee,  know  all  words  are  faint 


printen  at  CDtir  HitocrsiDc  }3rrs6 

CAMBRIDGE,  MASS. 
1908 


9!n  lotoina  Jftemor? 

OP 

aitce  Cfjornton  9toams 

BELOVED  DAUGHTER  OF 
CHARLES   THORNTON   ADAMS 

AND 

ALICE   HANKS   ADAMS 


BORN  SEPTEMBER  9,  1887.  AT  12  TRINITY  PLACE 
WEST  NEW  BRIGHTON,  STATEN  ISLAND,  NEW  YORK 

DIED  JANUARY  29,  1908,  AT  SEVEN  O'CLOCK  LN  THE 
MORNING,  AT  GROSVENOR  HOUSE,  GROSVENOR 
SQUARE,    SOUTHAMPTON,    ENGLAND 


DESCENT 

ADAMS   FAMILY 

The  ancestor  of  this  family  was  Henkt  Adams,  of  Braintree  (Quincy), 
Mass.  He  came  from  England,  and  is  said  to  have  arrived  in  Boston, 
Mass.,  with  his  wife,  eight  sons,  and  a  daughter,  in  1632  or  1633.  Charles 
I.,  in  1629,  granted  40  acres  of  land  in  Massachusetts  to  Thomas 
Adams,  who  was  an  Alderman,  High  Sheriff,  and  Lord  Mayor  of  London. 
It  is  said  that  Henry  Adams  was  a  brother  of  Thomas,  and  took  up  the 
latter's  grant.  President  John  Adams  erected  a  monument  to  the  memory 
of  Henry  Adams  in  the  old  churchyard  at  Quincy,  with  the  following 
inscription :  — 

"In  memory  of  Henry  Adams,  who  took  his  flight  from  the  Dragon 
persecution  in  Devonshire,  England,  and  alighted  with  eight  sons  near 
Mt.  Wollaston.  One  of  the  sons  returned  to  England,  and  after  taking 
time  to  explore  the  country,  four  removed  to  Medfield,  and  two  to  Chelms- 
ford. One  only,  Joseph,  who  lies  here  at  his  left  hand,  remained  here  — 
an  original  proprietor  in  the  township  of  Braintree." 

President  John  Quincy  Adams  dissented  from  his  father's  opinion  that 
Henry  Adams  came  from  Devonshire,  and  gave  his  opinion  that  Braintree, 
Essex  County,  England,  was  the  place  of  origin.  This  opinion  seems  to 
have  been  based  largely  on  the  fact  that  Braintree,  Mass.,  was  settled  by 
Hooker's  company,  which  was  made  up  from  Braintree,  Chelmsford,  and 
other  villages  of  Essex  County,  England. 

Joseph  2  Adams,  who,  in  the  epitaph  to  Henry  Adams,  is  referred  to 
as  he  "who  lies  here  at  his  left  hand,  an  original  proprietor  in  the  town- 
ship of  Braintree,"  was  born  in  England  in  1626,  and  was  married  in 
Braintree,  Mass.,  in  1650,  to  Abigail  Baxter.  They  had  twelve  children, 
the  second  of  whom,  born  in  1654,  was  also  named  Joseph  3.  He  was  a 
selectman  in  Braintree,  and  served  in  the  war  with  the  Indians  in  1676. 
Samuel  Adams,  the  Patriot,  was  descended  from  Joseph 2  Adams,  through 
his  son,  Captain  John  Adams. 

Joseph 3  Adams  was  married  three  times.  By  his  second  wife,  Hannah 
Bass,  he  had  ten  children,  the  first  of  whom,  named  Joseph,4  was  bom 
in  1688,  graduated  from  Harvard  College  in  1710,  was  ordained  a 
minister,  and  settled  at  Newington,  N.  H.,  in  1715,  where  he  remained 
as  pastor  for  66  years.  John  Adams,  second  President  of  the  United 
States,  was  a  son  of  Deacon  John  Adams,  brother  of  Rev.  Joseph  Adams. 

From  Rev.  Joseph  Adams  the  descent  of  this  branch  of  the  Adams 
family  was  through  Benjamin  (1728),  James  (1752),  Benjamin  (1779), 
Charles  W.  (1813),  and  Charles  Thornton  (1856). 


THORNTON  FAMILY 

The  ancestor  was  Hon.  Matthew  Thornton,  one  of  the  signers  of  the 
Declaration  of  Independence  for  the  State  of  New  Hampshire,  who  was 
born  near  Londonderry,  Ireland,  in  1714. 
The  descent  was  through : 
Hannah  Thornton  (1774). 
Thornton  McGaw  (1779). 

Annie  Thornton  McGaw,  wife  of  Charles  W.  Adams  (1828). 
Charles  Thornton  Adams  (1856). 

HANKS  FAMILY 

This  family  was  of  English  origin,  the  ancestor  being  Thomas  Hanks 
of  Malmsbury,  Wiltshire,  England,  who  was  also  the  ancestor  of  Nancy 
Hanks,  mother  of  President  Abraham  Lincoln. 

The  descent  was  through  Benjamin  Hanks,  who  served  in  the  war  of 
the  American  Revolution,  in  the  Lexington  Alarm,  and  under  General 
Putnam  in  1775. 

The  immediate  descent  was  through  Alice  Kent  Hanks,  wife  of  Charles 
Thornton  Adams. 


{Reproduction  of  Alice's  handtcriting) 


aifce  C^owton  a&amg 

"How  beautiful  is  the  memory  of  the  dead! 
What  a  holy  thing  it  is  in  the  human  heart,  and 
what  a  chastening  influence  it  sheds  upon  human 
life !  How  it  subdues  all  the  harshness  that  grows 
up  within  us  in  the  daily  intercourse  with  the 
world !  How  it  melts  our  unkindness,  softens  our 
pride,  kindles  our  deepest  love,  and  awakens  our 
highest  aspirations!" 

"There's  gladness  in  remembrance"  of  such 
a  life,  even  though  it  is  mingled  with  great  sor- 
row. Alice  will  never  be  forgotten  by  those  who 
knew  her,  and  her  sweet  influence  will  always 
continue  to  be  felt.  She  won  the  love  of  many 
friends,  and  the  admiration  and  esteem  of  the 
entire  community  in  which  she  lived.  The  deep 
feeling  of  loss  at  her  death  was  widespread.  Lov- 
ing tributes  to  her  came  from  many  friends,  in 
many  places.  The  beauty  of  her  character  was 
spoken  of,  in  feeling  words,  by  the  Rector  of  her 
Church,  at  the  close  of  the  morning  service  on 
the  Sunday  after  her  death. 

The  story  of  her  sweet  life  can  be  read  from 
the  following  words  of  sorrowing  friends :  — 

"  Very  many  dear  friends  have  passed  on  lately, 
but  none  so  young,  so  dear,  so  beautiful  as  Alice : 

1 


perhaps  too  good  for  earth,  she  is  transplanted  to 
bloom  in  heaven.  How  we  miss  the  cheery  spirit, 
so  companionable,  so  appreciative,  affectionate, 
able  to  adapt  herself  to  all  ages,  which  is  unus- 
ual in  one  so  young.' '  f.  w. 

"Alice  in  her  imperishable  youth,  with  the 
bloom  of  her  unending  beauty  shrined  in  your 
heart  —  you  will  always  keep.  All  who  came  in 
contact  with  her  realized  the  intensity  of  her  na- 
ture which  left  her  peculiarly  exposed  to  life.  But 
she  still  grows.  Nothing  can  take  the  memory  of 
those  beautiful  blessed  years  from  the  home  she 
loved."  a.  c.  d. 

"We  called  dear  Alice  young,  still,  I  am  sure 
that  she  lived  double  the  amount  her  years 
counted,  and  happy,  happy  years  too,  for  you 
and  many,  many  others  have  always  been  most 
devoted  to  this  queen  we  all  loved.  I  find  great 
pleasure  in  looking  back  to  those  days  of  her 
babyhood  and  childhood  when  I  saw  so  much  of 
her,  and  I  cannot  be  too  grateful  for  the  few  days 
she  tarried  here  last  summer.  She  was  such  a 
charming,  sweet  invalid  that  we  loved  to  care  for 
her  and  receive  her  thanks,  which  were  always 
ready.  Few  in  the  same  length  of  time  could 
have  bequeathed  us  so  many  pleasant  memories. 

"Last  summer  (1907)  she  reminded  me  of  the 
'wide-awake  naps'  she  used  to  take  while  I  was 
putting  pockets  into  her  dresses  as  a  reward  for 

2 


trying  to  rest.  Her  little  mind  and  heart,  even  in 
those  days,  were  too  busy  —  no  wonder  she  came 
to  her  long  rest  sooner  than  we  could  have 
wished."  e.  h. 

"I  know  what  the  loss  of  your  lovely  Alice 
means  to  you.  I  think  of  her  as  I  first  knew  her 
in  Trinity  Place  as  my  first  baby  love,  and  then 
a  little  later  when  it  made  me  so  happy  to  be 
'Arno'  in  that  dear  baby  voice.  And  then  as 
years  passed  and  we  were  separated  I  was  sorry 
not  to  be  near  enough  to  be  still  one  of  the  favor- 
ites, but  was  so  glad  to  see  the  lovely,  exquisite 
girl  at  Mrs.  Johnson's  (1906)  and  to  be  asked  for 
as  *  Mamma's  friend.'  I  had  asked  who  that 
lovely  girl  was,  and  yet  I  should  have  known 
her."  h.  b.  t. 

"Alice  in  her  short  life  was  a  beautiful  ex- 
ample, and  her  beauty  and  charm  can  never  be 
forgotten.    Her  life  was  ideal."  c.  T.  c. 

"  There  are  few  people  of  whom  every  one  was 
so  universally  fond  as  of  Alice."  e.  d.  b. 

"She  was  so  sweet,  so  handsome,  so  wo- 
manly." r.  a.  s. 

"Alice  will  always  be  remembered  by  all  of  us 
as  the  dearest  girl  in  the  world.  Always  so  kind 
and  dear  to  every  one."  c.  B. 

3 


"Alice  had  such  a  vital,  warm,  sunny  person- 
ality that  it  must  stay  on  and  bless  all  who  loved 
her.  Her  life  will  continue  to  radiate  a  sense  of 
joy  and  nearness  to  the  many  who  found  her  so 
sweet  and  lovable."  m.  c.  m. 

"And  dear  Alice,  how  sweet  and  kind  she  al- 
ways was  to  older  people,  and  what  a  pleasure  it 
was  to  see  her."  c.  b.  h. 

"  I  love  to  remember  Alice's  sweet,  happy  dis- 
position and  charming  cordiality."  e.  c. 

"I  never  saw  a  girl  who  was  so  beloved  by 
both  old  and  young  as  Alice.  I  put  her  in  a  place 
very  deep  down  in  my  heart,  and  her  beautiful 
memory  will  help  in  many  hard  places  in  life." 

M.  G. 

"I  never  knew  a  girl  with  so  beautiful  a  char- 
acter, so  kind  toward  every  one,  and  with  such 
a  wonderful  future  before  her.  She  had  such  a 
great  influence  upon  my  life  that  her  memory  will 
always  be  sacred  to  me,  and  her  influence  will 
still  continue."  t.  c. 

"I  cannot  realize  that  the  youth  and  the  sweet- 
ness and  the  gentle  spirit  that  we  all  loved  so 
much  have  been  transplanted."  l.  b. 


"  You  can  recall  a  life  of  rare  loveliness  and  this 
memory  will  always  be  precious  to  you." 

E.  B.  H. 

"  I  always  think  of  Alice  as  a  beautiful  flower, 
and  it  was  a  joy  and  privilege  to  have  seen  and 
known  her.  We  have  all  felt  this  winter  (1907) 
as  if  Montclair  had  lost  much  of  its  joy  and 
beauty,  but  her  sweet  spirit  will  always  be  felt, 
and  her  memory  associated  with  all  that  is 
lovely."  A.  m.  G. 

"  It  is  impossible  to  realize  that  we  shall  never 
see  the  radiant,  beautiful  Alice  among  us  any 
more."  j.  r.  f. 

"  You  know  how  your  Alice  appealed  to  me  — 
how  underneath  that  unusual  charm  and  fasci- 
nation which  were  hers,  I  found  an  intelligence 
which  I  found  in  few  of  the  girls  who  were  with 
me  in  school."  H.  mcp. 

"What  a  comfort  it  must  be  to  feel  that  the 
soul  which  was  loaned  to  you,  you  could  return 
so  pure,  so  beautiful,  so  innocent,  to  God,  its 
maker!"  c.  e.  w. 

The  loving  friends  have  spoken  many  kind 
words  of  Alice,  and  have  described  a  character  of 
great  beauty,  but  they  did  not  know  all  her  fine 
traits  of  character.  Only  those  to  whom  the  great 

5 


privilege  was  granted  of  accompanying  this  beau- 
tiful and  brave  spirit  through  her  earthly  pil- 
grimage, and  who  walked  hand  in  hand  with  her 
through  the  battle  of  Life  and  into  the  Valley  of 
the  Shadow  of  Death,  could  know  all  the  great- 
ness of  soul  and  beauty  of  character  which  were 
hers. 

The  pathway  of  Alice's  life  lay  in  pleasant 
places,  ever  increasing  in  beauty  and  happiness. 
Her  own  fine  qualities,  and  the  love  and  devotion 
of  many  relatives  and  friends  served  to  make  her 
life  one  of  unusual  happiness.  She  was  not  with- 
out her  trials,  deeper  and  more  severe  than  usu- 
ally fall  to  the  lot  of  one  so  young,  and  as  she 
rose  triumphant  over  them  all  she  acquired  that 
wonderful  strength  and  depth  of  character  which 
enabled  her  to  crown  a  life  of  rare  beauty  with  a 
death  of  wonderful  nobility. 

One  of  her  most  marked  characteristics  was 
absolute  loyalty. 

A  favorite  creed  of  hers  was :  — 

"  Think  truly,  and  thy  thought  shall  the  world* s 
famine  feed; 
Speak  truly,  and  thy  word  shall  be  a  fruitful 

seed; 
Live  truly,  and  thy  life  shall  be  a  grand  and 
noble  creed." 

6 


Another  marked  characteristic  was  unselfish- 
ness. She  was  ever  forgetful  of  self  and  thought- 
ful of  others.  There  were  many  instances  of  this 
throughout  her  life,  and  especially  during  the  last 
sad  days,  when  she  bore  her  burden  so  bravely 
and  uncomplainingly  and  saved  her  parents  all 
she  could. 

She  had  a  high  ideal  of  life,  and  exerted  a  great 
influence  for  good.  It  was  her  great  desire  to 
lead  a  noble  and  useful  life. 

There  was  no  spirit  of  jealousy  or  envy  in 
her,  and  she  was  always  satisfied  with  what  she 
had. 

She  thoroughly  appreciated  all  that  was  done 
for  her.  Some  of  these  characteristics  appear 
from  the  following  letters  of  her  childhood,  writ- 
ten at  Pittsford,  Vermont,  in  June,  1898. 

Dear  Papa,  —  Why  dont  you  write  me  a  letter.  You 
must  come  up  forth  of  July.  Bring  a  wooden  box  of  fire- 
crackers like  the  box  you  brought  last  year,  20  packages 
of  torpetoes,  \  doz.  giant  crackers  and  a  cannon  to  put 
my  fire-crackers  in 

Your  loving 

Pal. 

P.  S.  I  have  a  head-ache  and  have  to  hurry  so  the  post- 
man can  have  it.   Excuse  writing  to-day. 

A.  A. 


Dear  Papa,  —  We  are  having  a  fine  time.  I  think  that 
Pittsford  is  a  dandy  place.  I  am  writing  this  letter  on  a 
hay-cock.  I  can't  have  much  this  4th  of  July,  but  have 
7  bunches  of  fire-crackers  and  a  toy  pistol  and  some  caps 
to  put  in  it.  I  just  killed  a  little  red  spider  on  this  paper. 
This  morning  Mr.  Poreau  came  out  with  a  pitchfork 
and  Kenneth  said,  "Oh !  Never  mind  that  hay,  Jock,  I '11 
tend  to  it."  And  when  we  went  bathing  this  morning  Mr. 
Poreau  asked  him  who  was  going  with  him  he  said,  "Oh ! 
the  Kids."  Really,  Mamma,  Helen  and  I  were  going. 

I  want  you  to  come  soon  and  bring  Mr.  Moore. 

Your  loving  Pal. 

She  had  a  great  love  of  home.  12  Trinity 
Place,  West  New  Brighton,  was  dear  to  her  as 
the  place  of  her  birth,  but  her  last  home,  at 
43  Highland  Avenue,  Montclair,  New  Jersey,  she 
loved  above  all  others.  In  this  beautiful  home 
on  the  mountainside,  Alice  grew  from  childhood 
into  girlhood,  and  to  young  womanhood,  sur- 
rounded by  those  whom  she  loved  and  who  loved 
her,  with  everything  to  interest  and  delight  her. 
Here  she  attained  the  fullness  of  her  life,  with 
all  of  its  beauty  and  nobility. 

From  Alice's  earliest  years  her  mother's  home 
at  387  Harvard  Street,  Cambridge,  was  hallowed 
with  sacred  memories  for  her.  Here,  on  June  26, 
1888,  she  was  christened  by  her  grandfather, 
Rev.  Stedman  Wright  Hanks.  Alice  spent  many 
happy  days  in  Cambridge,  where  all  that  love 

8 


* 


and  devotion  could  do  was  done  for  her  by  her 
relatives  and  friends.  Alice's  grandmother  had 
a  particularly  deep  love  and  admiration  for  her, 
and  the  association  with  such  a  noble  woman 
served  in  a  large  degree  to  give  Alice  her  strength 
and  nobility  of  character. 

Another  place  filled  with  pleasant  associations 
for  Alice,  and  which  she  often  spoke  of  as  the 
"dearest  place  in  the  world,"  was  Clifton.  Here 
she  followed  in  her  mother's  footsteps,  and  like 
her,  from  childhood  up,  grew  to  love  the  sea  and 
the  rock-bound  shore  of  old  Massachusetts.  A 
warm  welcome  always  awaited  Alice  in  the  sum- 
mer home  of  her  mother's  family  at  Clifton,  and 
no  place  had  dearer  memories  for  her.  It  was 
these  memories  which  led  her  to  write  the  follow- 
ing words  in  her  book  of  quotations:  — 

"the  ocean 

"A  faint,  low  murmur,  rising  and  falling. 
Now  it  comes  rolling  in  upon  me  wave  after 
wave,  of  sweet,  solemn  music.  There  was  a 
grand  organ  swell ;  and  now  it  dies  away  as  into 
the  infinite  distance ;  but  I  still  hear  it  —  whether 
ear  or  spirit  I  know  not  —  the  very  ghost  of 
sound  ...  a  sort  of  morning  song  of  praise  to 
the  Giver  of  Life  and  Maker  of  Music."  Clifton. 

9 


The  music  of  the  sea  and  its  vastness  and 
grandeur  strongly  appealed  to  Alice.  She  loved 
the  sea,  and  had  many  opportunities  to  enjoy  it. 
Her  happiest  summer  vacations  were  passed  at 
Clifton,  New  London,  and  Southwest  Harbor, 
and  she  had  many  enjoyable  visits  on  the  coast 
of  New  Jersey.  She  was  a  good  swimmer  and 
greatly  enjoyed  the  surf.  When  sailing  at  South- 
west Harbor  she  was  knocked  overboard,  but 
swam  to  the  float  without  assistance. 

The  following  letter  written  at  Southwest 
Harbor  shows  that  she  enjoyed  life  there :  — 

August  26,  1905. 
My  dearest  Daddo,  —  I  've  been  having  some  pretty 
good  sailing  since  you  left.  Yesterday  I  went  out  to  Little 
Duck  in  Captain  Moore's  boat  with  the  Egberts  and 
Smiths  from  Montclair.  We  cooked  our  luncheon  out  there 
and  then  sailed  home  in  time  for  supper.  I  have  been  out 
sailing  several  times.  Is  n't  that  fine  ?  A  tennis  tournament 
has  just  ended  between  the  men  in  the  various  hotels,  and 
the  representatives  of  the  Stanley  House  won.  Not  so  bad. 
Buck  is  having  the  time  of  his  life  fussing  around  the  wreck 
down  on  the  beach.  He  goes  down  and  "bosses  the  job" 
for  them  —  No  doubt  a  great  help. 

Love  to  the  dog  Jack.  Alice. 

Alice  was  a  member  of  the  Episcopal  Church. 
On  Staten  Island  she  attended  St.  James  Church, 
and  in  Montclair,  St.  Luke's  Church,  where  she 

10 


was  confirmed  on  May  12, 1903.  It  was  an  im- 
pressive sight  to  see  this  beautiful  girl,  dressed 
in  spotless  white,  receive  the  solemn  ceremony  of 
confirmation. 

She  had  a  great  love  for  little  children,  and  they, 
too,  loved  her.  She  was  greatly  interested  in  her 
class  of  seventeen  little  girls  in  the  Sunday-School 
at  St.  Luke's.  There  was  keen  rivalry  among 
them  for  the  privilege  of  sitting  next  to  their 
teacher.  It  was  decided  that  the  first  to  arrive  at 
Sunday-School  should  have  that  privilege.  This 
resulted  in  one  of  the  little  girls  getting  up  at  six 
o'clock  in  the  morning  in  order  to  secure  the  seat 
of  honor.  After  school  was  over  they  all  wanted 
to  hold  their  teacher's  hands  and  walk  with  her, 
and  she  was  greatly  pleased  by  all  these  evidences 
of  their  affection.  It  was  one  of  her  greatest  pleas- 
ures to  entertain  the  class  at  her  home.  When 
failing  health  compelled  her  to  give  up  her  class 
in  the  Sunday-School,  it  was  a  great  sorrow  to 
her. 

Alice's  school  life  began  at  the  age  of  six,  when 
she  attended  Miss  Banks'  private  school  at  West 
New  Brighton,  Staten  Island.  Later  she  went  to 
the  Staten  Island  Academy.  There  is  a  picture  of 
the  little  Alice  at  the  age  of  ten,  taken  in  the  sew- 
ing-class at  the  Academy,  which  shows  her  in  the 

11 


foreground,  with  her  hair  in  pig-tails,  intent  upon 
her  work  of  preparation  for  the  duties  of  later 
life. 

When  Alice  first  went  to  Montclair,  in  1899, 
she  entered  the  Grammar  School,  which  she  at- 
tended for  two  years.    Then  she  passed  to  the 
High  School,  where  she  was  in  the  class  of  1905. 
She  always  took  a  great  interest  in  her  class  and 
school,  and  was  an  enthusiastic  follower  of  all 
athletic  contests  in  which  her  schoolmates  took 
part.  It  was  thought  best  for  her  not  to  complete 
the  course  at  the  High  School,  so  she  left  at  the 
end  of  the  school  year  in  1904,  and  during  the 
following  year  took  a  course  in  drawing  and 
painting  at  the  New  York  School  of  Applied  De- 
sign for  Women,  where  she  did  some  very  cred- 
itable work.  As  it  was  feared  that  the  trip  to  New 
York  might  be  too  tiresome  for  her,  she  took,  in 
the  following  year,  a  course  in   the  history  o 
art  at  Miss  Timlow's  "Cloverside"   School  in 
Montclair.  She  derived  a  great  deal  of  pleasure 
and  instruction  from  this  course,  which  aided 
materially   in   the   development    of    her   char- 
acter. 

Alice  had  a  bright  and  quick  mind,  and  a  re- 
tentive memory.  She  was  fond  of  reading.  Mil- 
ton, Tennyson,  Longfellow,  Lowell,  Omar  Khay- 

12 


yam,  Richard  Jefferies,  Joaquin  Miller,  and  Paul 
Laurence  Dunbar,  all  appealed  to  her  poetic 
nature,  and  her  book  of  quotations  contains 
selections  from  them  all.  She  enjoyed  partic- 
ularly the  writings  of  Dickens  and  Kipling,  and 
her  favorite  short  story  was  the  Brushwood  Boy. 
The  poems  of  Paul  Laurence  Dunbar  which 
she  liked  the  best  were :  "  Ere  sleep  comes  down 
to  soothe  the  weary  eyes";  "Life";  "The  Ris- 
ing of  the  Storm" ;  "The  Seedling" ;  "The  Mys- 
tery"; "Longing";  "Alice";  "Dawn";  "Why 
fades  a  dream";  and  "To  the  Memory  of  Mary 
Young."  In  the  last  she  could  read  the  story  of 
what  was  to  be  her  own  sad  fate,  and  it  is  re- 
produced here. 

"  God  has  his  plans,  and  what  if  we 
With  our  sight  be  too  blind  to  see 
Their  full  fruition;  cannot  he, 
Who  made  it,  solve  the  mystery  ? 
One  whom  we  loved  has  fall'n  asleep, 
Not  died ;  although  her  calm  be  deep, 
Some  new,  unknown,  and  strange  surprise 
In  Heaven  holds  enrapt  her  eyes. 

"And  can  you  blame  her  that  her  gaze 
Is  turned  away  from  earthly  ways, 
When  to  her  eyes  God's  light  and  love 
Have  giv'n  the  view  of  things  above  ? 
13 


A  gentle  spirit  sweetly  good, 
The  pearl  of  precious  womanhood ; 
Who  heard  the  voice  of  duty  clear, 
And  found  her  mission  soon  and  near. 

"She  loved  all  nature,  flowers  fair, 
The  warmth  of  sun,  the  kiss  of  air, 
The  birds  that  filled  the  sky  with  song, 
The  stream  that  laughed  its  way  along. 
Her  home  to  her  was  shrine  and  throne, 
But  one  love  held  her  not  alone ; 
She  sought  out  poverty  and  grief, 
Who  touched  her  robe  and  found  relief. 

"  So  sped  she  in  her  Master's  work, 
Too  busy  and  too  brave  to  shirk, 
When  through  the  silence,  dusk  and  dim, 
God  called  her  and  she  fled  to  him. 
We  wonder  at  the  early  call, 
And  tears  of  sorrow  can  but  fall 
For  her  o'er  whom  we  spread  the  pall ; 
But  faith,  sweet  faith,  is  over  all. 

*  The  house  is  dust,  the  voice  is  dumb, 
But  through  undying  years  to  come, 
The  spark  that  glowed  within  her  soul 
Shall  light  our  footsteps  to  the  goal. 
She  went  her  way ;  but  oh,  she  trod 
The  path  that  led  her  straight  to  God. 
Such  lives  as  this  put  death  to  scorn; 
They  lose  our  day  to  find  God's  morn." 
14 


Skating  was  a  favorite  pastime  of  Alice's,  and 
she  had  plenty  of  opportunities  to  indulge  in  it 
on  Verona  and  Crystal  lakes. 

Music  had  great  charms  for  her,  and  she  spent 
many  happy  hours  at  the  piano.  It  was  a  great 
pleasure  to  hear  her  play,  and  every  evening  she 
filled  the  home  with  melody. 

Dancing  was  also  a  great  delight  to  her,  and 
she  was  a  graceful  dancer.  It  was  a  pleasure  to 
see  her  as  she  left  home  to  attend  the  numerous 
parties  to  which  she  was  invited,  —  a  vision  of 
loveliness,  —  and  an  equal  pleasure  to  see  her 
upon  her  return,  sparkling  with  enthusiasm.  She 
was  of  an  essentially  social  nature,  and  delighted 
in  social  gatherings.  She  had  a  keen  apprecia- 
tion of  humor,  and  was  a  bright  and  entertain- 
ing conversationalist.  Her  voice  and  manner  of 
expression  were  most  pleasing,  and  her  open- 
hearted  cordiality  and  enthusiasm  won  the  love 
of  old  and  young  alike.  It  was  natural,  therefore, 
that  she  should  have  been  a  great  social  favorite 
and  everywhere  a  welcome  guest. 

To  enumerate  all  the  good  times  she  had  would 
be  impossible.  The  crowning  climax  of  them  all 
washer  "coming-out"  tea, on  November  10, 1906. 
There  could  have  been  no  greater  proof  of  the 
estimation  in  which  she  was  held  by  her  many 

15 


friends  than  was  given  on  this  happy  occasion. 
Alice  herself  said:  "This  is  the  happiest  day  of 
my  life."  Her  home  was  banked  with  flowers, 
the  gifts  of  many  friends,  and  Alice  insisted  upon 
opening  each  box  of  flowers  herself.  She  had  the 
choice  of  giving  a  dinner,  a  dancing  party,  or  a 
tea,  and  had  chosen  the  last,  saying:  "Let  us 
have  a  tea,  by  all  means,  Mother,  for  I  want  all 
your  friends  to  be  my  friends."  Referring  to 
this  occasion,  a  friend  has  written :  — 

"  My  thoughts  often  turn  to  the  last  time  I  saw  Alice 
— sweet  and  gay  with  the  happiness  of  that  flower-decked 
afternoon  —  all  alight  as  she  was  with  the  joy  of  living." 

Another  friend  has  written :  — 

"  I  shall  always  think  of  Alice  as  I  saw  her  at  her  tea 
—  the  most  radiant  vision  of  girlhood  I  ever  saw." 

During  this  winter  Alice's  life  was  filled  with 
gayety  —  dinners,  luncheons,  dances,  bridge- 
parties,  etc.,  being  given  her  by  her  many 
friends. 

The  love  and  devotion  of  many  fine  young 
men  were  laid  at  Alice's  feet,  and  among  them 
was  Rollin  Morgan  Batten,  to  whom  she  became 
engaged  on  February  23,  1906.  He  was  a  Har- 
vard man,  of  the  class  of  1903,  and  a  member  of 
the  Essex  Troop.    In  September,  1907,  he  de- 

16 


cided  to  settle  in  the  far  West,  where  business 
obliged  him  to  go,  and  he  and  Alice  released  each 
other  from  their  engagement.  Alice  was  always 
most  loyal  to  him,  and  often  said  that  he  was  one 
of  the  finest  men  she  ever  knew. 

Alice  never  could  have  attained  the  strength 
and  beauty  of  character  which  were  hers,  with- 
out the  suffering  through  which  she  passed.  She 
had  two  severe  illnesses,  the  first  when  she  was 
ten,  and  the  second  when  sixteen.  The  day  be- 
fore Thanksgiving  Day,  in  1897,  she  had  to 
submit  to  a  serious  surgical  operation  for  the 
removal  of  a  hardened  gland  from  her  neck.  The 
operation  was  performed  at  the  Smith  Infirmary 
on  Staten  Island,  by  Dr.  William  C.  Walser. 
The  wonderful  courage  displayed  by  this  heroic 
little  girl  of  ten,  in  preparing  for  and  undergoing 
this  terrible  ordeal,  will  never  be  forgotten.  Her 
serene  and  beautiful  face,  as  she  took  the  hand  of 
her  devoted  mother  and  passed  to  the  operating- 
table,  was  wonderful  to  behold.  For  three  long 
hours,  which  seemed  an  eternity,  she  was  upon 
the  operating-table,  submitting  to  the  operation 
which  proved  to  be  much  more  serious  than  was 
anticipated.  A  photograph  of  her,  with  her 
bicycle,  taken  the  day  before  the  operation,  shows 
her  delicate  and  serene  face. 

17 


Her  second  severe  illness  was  in  1903,  when 
she  had  an  attack  of  inflammatory  rheumatism. 
She  was  confined  to  her  bed  for  several  months, 
during  which  time  she  had  to  endure  much  severe 
suffering.  Her  heart  was  seriously  affected  by 
this  illness,  and  ever  afterwards  the  greatest  pos- 
sible care  was  taken  of  her.  Although  she  seemed 
to  regain  her  health  and  strength,  and  never  lost 
her  bright  and  happy  disposition,  it  was  evident 
that  after  this  illness  her  thoughts  turned  more 
to  the  contemplation  of  serious  things. 

"  Thou  hast  midst  Life's  empty  noises 
Heard  the  solemn  steps  of  Time, 
And  the  low  mysterious  voices 
Of  another  clime.*' 

■  Early  hath  Life's  mighty  question 
Thrilled  within  thy  heart  of  youth 
With  a  deep  and  strong  beseeching : 
What  and  Where  is  Truth?" 

The  summer  of  1907  she  spent  at  Southwest 
Harbor,  Maine.  On  the  way  there  she  was  taken 
ill  in  Boston,  and  was  obliged  to  remain  for  sev- 
eral days  at  her  mother's  former  home  in  Cam- 
bridge, where  she  was  tenderly  nursed  by  her 
aunts.  After  her  arrival  at  Southwest  Harbor  she 
was  confined  to  her  bed  for  some  time,  but  was 

18 


finally  able  to  get  up  and  enjoy  the  beauty  of  the 
Maine  coast  which  she  loved  so  well.  She  greatly 
enjoyed  the  tennis  which  was  played  near  the 
hotel.  Bridge  was  also  a  great  recreation  for  her, 
and  she  played  it  skilfully.  She  had  a  very  happy 
summer  in  the  place  which  she  thought  surpassed 
all  others  in  beauty. 

Upon  the  return  to  Montclair,  in  September, 
it  was  thought  that  a  trip  abroad  would  benefit 
Alice,  and  when  it  was  decided  that  she  was  to 
go  with  her  mother,  and  that  their  very  dear 
friends  and  neighbors,  Mrs.  Taube  and  her 
daughter  Marjorie,  were  to  accompany  them  as 
far  as  Paris,  Alice's  joy  knew  no  bounds.  A  spe- 
cialist was  to  be  consulted  in  Paris,  and  it  was 
hoped  that  after  this  they  might  go  to  the  south 
of  France,  and  possibly  later  to  Switzerland. 
They  sailed  on  the  Oceanic,  of  the  White  Star 
line,  on  October  23d,  at  6  a.  m.,  under  the  most 
favorable  circumstances.  They  went  on  board 
the  night  before,  and  many  friends  saw  them  off. 
It  was  a  gay  scene,  the  ship  all  aglow  with  lights, 
and  the  voyagers  were  fairly  laden  down  with 
books,  flowers,  and  other  gifts.  All  that  was  lack- 
ing was  the  touch  of  health  upon  the  face  of  the 
dear  Alice,  and  this,  it  was  hoped,  the  voyage  and 
the  trip  would  bring. 

19 


On  October  24th,  at  11  a.  m.,  this  good 
news  came  out  of  the  sea,  by  wireless  from  the 
Oceanic :  — 

"Warm  and  clear.  Alice  improving.  All  well.  Great 
time.    Love. 

Adams  —  Taube." 

Extracts  from  letters  of  the  devoted  mother 
must  now  tell  their  sad  story. 


20 


ON  BOARD  OCEANIC 

Wednesday,  October  23,  1907.  —  I  gave  Alice 
an  egg  at  6  a.  m.,  and  she  is  now  getting  up 
(6.30).  I  have  not  heard  her  mention  pain  or 
ache. 

To-day  has  been  perfect.  The  sun  has  been 
glorious,  and  it  has  been  as  warm  as  on  our 
piazza.    We  have  been  on  deck  all  day. 

Alice  and  Marjorie  had  luncheon  on  deck. 
Alice  seems  better,  but  still  looks  very  frail. 

Thursday,  October  24.  — Alice  slept  well.  She 
and  I  played  two  rubbers  of  bridge  with  an  Eng- 
ishman  and  an  Irishman  from  Londonderry. 

Friday,  October  25.  —  It  has  been  a  rough  day. 
Alice  seems  to  be  improving,  but  to-night  com- 
plains of  a  severe  pain  in  her  back. 

Saturday,  October  26.  —  Alice  has  been  in  bed 
all  day.  It  seems  to  be  rheumatic  pains.  Called 
in  the  ship's  doctor.  We  put  Alice  directly  to  bed, 
and  found  that  her  temperature  was  102°.  She 
has  been  in  great  pain  all  day. 

Sunday,  October  27.  —  A  sunny  day.  Alice  has 
been  in  bed  two  days  with  a  bad  attack  of  rheu- 
matism, and  is  pretty  sick  —  not  able  to  move 
at  all. 

21 


Monday,  October  28.  —  Alice  is  better  —  has 
sat  up  in  a  steamer  chair  an  hour  or  more.  Has 
also  eaten  well.  I  feel  a  decided  change  for  the 
better  has  come. 

Tuesday,  October  29.  —  A  heavenly  day.  Alice 
seems  very  miserable.  She  has  some  fever  all 
the  time,  and  is  a  little  discouraged. 

6  p.  m.  Alice's  temperature  is  nearly  normal. 
She  seems  brighter  and  better. 

Wednesday,  October  30.  — 11  A.  m.  Alice  up 
and  feeling  better.  Landed  at  noon  at  South- 
ampton. 

SOUTHAMPTON 

Thursday,  October  31.  —  Alice  improving  and 
able  to  drive.    Delighted  with  England. 

We  are  in  the  cutest  lodgings  in  Southampton, 
and  Alice  is  decidedly  better.  The  sun  is  shining 
and  the  air  is  soft  and  balmy.  The  flowers  are 
all  in  bloom  and  the  grass  is  green.  Alice  is  going 
out  to  drive  for  an  hour. 

Friday,  November  1.  —  Alice  is  better  and  all 
pain  is  gone.  She  had  so  improved  that  I  went 
to  London  with  Mrs.  Taube  and  Marjorie,  for 
a  day  and  night,  leaving  Alice  with  the  faithful 
stewardess  of  Oceanic. 

22 


Sunday,  November  3.  —  Returned  to  South- 
ampton at  9  p.  M.,  Alice  not  being  so  well. 

Monday,  November  4.  —  Took  Alice  to  Miss 
Mocatta's  Nursing  Home,  Grosvenor  House, 
Grosvenor  Square. 

The  following  is  an  extract  from  a  letter  writ- 
ten by  Alice  to  her  sister  Helen,  on  November 
5,  1907:  — 

"  Southampton  is  lovely.  It  has  rows  and  rows 
of  cute  little  cottages  with  cuter  little  gardens 
in  front.  And  out  in  the  country  the  thatched 
cottages  are  almost  too  like  a  picture  to  be  real. 

"  There  is  a  beautiful  old  gate  here  in  the  centre 
of  the  main  street,  a  great  stone  arch,  which  is 
very,  very  old  and  very  interesting,  and  a  prison 
which  looks  as  if  it  had  been  built  forever. 

"Give  my  love  to  Papa  and  to  darlingest 
Bucko,  and  tell  Papa  that  I  won't  laugh  at  him 
about  England  any  more." 

November  7.  —  Alice  is  gaining  steadily,  Mrs. 
Taube  and  Marjorie  left  for  Paris. 

November  8.  —  Alice  in  less  pain,  and  able  for 
the  first  time  to  lie  down  in  bed. 

November  9.  —  Alice  had  a  comfortable  night 
and  is  sitting  up  in  bed  reading. 

23 


November  10.  —  Alice  is  gaining.  Her  pain 
has  gone  and  she  is  very  comfortable,  but  she 
still  has  a  little  temperature.  She  feels  a  little 
discouraged. 

November  11.  —  Alice  seems  decidedly  better. 
She  has  had  no  temperature  for  24  hours. 

November  19.  —  Alice  sat  up  the  very  day  I 
last  wrote  you,  but  it  did  her  no  good  and  she 
has  not  been  so  well  since.  Her  temperature  for 
two  days  has  been  102  and  103.  She  seems  to  me 
like  a  very  sick  girl. 

November  22.  —  Alice  is  no  worse  these  last 
two  days,  perhaps  a  little  better.  She  seems 
cheerful  to-day,  and  was  delighted  at  that  part 
of  your  letter  which  said,  "You  must  not  come 
home  until  you  have  seen  all  you  went  to  see  — 
if  it  takes  all  winter."  She  said,  "Tell  my  father 
he  is  a  good  sport,  and  I  agree  with  him  abso- 
lutely" 

She  is  in  bed  all  the  time  and  has  a  milk  diet, 
and  is  not  strong  enough  even  to  sit  up. 

November  26.  —  It  is  all  very  sad  here.  Alice 
is  very  patient  and  good.  Her  temperature  still 
goes  up  and  down.  Last  night  it  was  101.  How- 
ever, to-day  she  seems  a  bit  better  to  me. 

24 


November  29.  —  I  felt  yesterday  that  Alice 
was  no  better  —  perhaps  not  so  well,  so  I  de- 
cided to  have  a  consultation,  and  called  in  one 
of  the  best  physicians  here.  After  a  long  con- 
sultation they  decided  that  her  trouble  must  be 
endocarditis.  Poor  little  girl!  I  felt  so  used  up 
that  I  could  n't  go  in  to  talk  to  her  for  some  time, 
and  when  I  finally  overcame  my  grief  and  de- 
spair, I  went  in  and  told  her  cheerfully  as  little 
as  I  could.  She  was  all  used  up  for  a  while  and 
sobbed,  but  finally  rose  to  the  occasion  bravely 
and  has  settled  down  to  help  conquer  all  that  is 
possible.  Her  temperature  goes  from  99  to  102, 
and  her  head  has  ached  terribly  for  ten  days. 
She  had  a  comfortable  night  last  night,  and  this 
morning  seems  both  cheerful  and  happy. 

December  2.  —  Alice  really  seems  a  bit  better 
the  last  two  days.  Her  temperature  has  not  been 
over  100  for  36  hours.  So  we  are  hoping,  yet 
hardly  dare  to  hope.  I  really  think  that  she  is 
gaining. 

December  3.  —  Alice  seems  bright  and  cheer- 
ful to-day. 


25 


The  following  characteristic  letter  written  by 
Alice  will  best  show  her  condition  and  frame  of 
mind  at  this  time :  — 

December  fifth,  1907. 

Dearest  Papa,  —  We  are  not  leading  a  life  of 
pure  joy  just  at  present,  but  I  have  no  aches  or 
pains  and  we  are  in  a  splendid  place,  so  I  sup- 
pose that  we  must  be  thankful  for  that. 

When  we  get  home  I  am  going  to  get  Bucko 
to  give  Mamma  a  few  lessons  in  spelling.  Did 
you  see  how  she  spelled  guinea  ?  ginnea ! ! !  and 
when  I  laughed  at  her  she  said  that  she  did  think 
it  looked  more  like  the  way  you  spelled  ginnea- 
pigs!!!!  And  she  meant  it.  She  was  perfectly 
serious.  And  I  laughed  until  the  tears  rolled 
down  my  cheeks. 

We  are  having  wretched  weather.  It  rains  and 
blows  all  the  time. 

It  seems  to  me  that  I  shall  burst  if  I  can't  get 
up  and  around  and  go  somewhere  and  see  some- 
thing. Marjorie's  letters  have  inspired  me  with 
a  great  wish  to  go  to  Paris,  but,  of  course,  I  can't 
get  out  of  bed  for  a  month  more,  so  it  seems 
likely  that  I  shan't  see  any  more  than  these  four 
green  walls. 

Bucko  was  pretty  cute  to  shoot  that  rabbit, 
but  I  don't  see  how  you  could  eat  it.  My  menu 
consists  of  milk,  or  beef  tea,  or  chicken  broth,  or 
cocoa  every  two  hours.  I  dream  at  night  of  really 


26 


having  something  to  eat.   I  never  did  approve 
of  these  strict  diets. 

Mamma  seems  well,  but  she  must  be  awfully 
tired  of  staying  in  this  one  spot.  She  never  says 
so,  and  tries  to  keep  cheerful  in  order  to  cheer  me 
up  as  much  as  possible. 

Love  to  you  all, 

Alice. 
O!  Those  hot  brine  baths!! 

December  6.  —  Alice  is  only  holding  her  own, 
if  that.  She  does  not  suffer  at  all,  except  from 
weariness.  I  read  aloud  to  her  several  hours  a 
day,  and  we  talk  things  over.  She  is  still  making 
plans  to  go  to  Paris.  Her  temperature  goes  from 
normal  to  102  and  103,  and  her  pulse  is  always 
over  100.  Yesterday  Dr.  Ward  said  she  must 
try  not  even  to  move  in  bed.  She  is  so  good  and 
tries  so  hard  to  do  everything  that  will  help  her 
to  recover.  She  is  just  as  brave  and  good  as  she 
can  be.  Of  course,  we  have  told  Alice  that  she 
must  rest  in  bed  until  after  Xmas.  It  was  hard 
for  her  and  she  cried,  but  at  last  accepted,  and 
now  talks  of  going  to  Paris  in  January. 

December  8.  —  Alice  seems  to  be  losing  ground. 

December  15.  —  Pain  has  settled  around  Alice's 
heart,  and  it  becomes  necessary  to  give  her  mor- 

27 


phine  at  night.    It  is  difficult  for  her  to  take 
nourishment. 

December  16.  —  Alice  seems  to  be  failing.  She 
does  not  realize  how  ill  she  is,  but  is  so  tired. 


28 


Dr.  Ward  and  Miss  Mocatta  wisely  insisted 
that  more  help  was  needed  at  this  time,  and  a 
cable  was  sent  saying,  "Alice  worse.  Alarming. 
Can  you  come  ?" 

On  December  17th,  at  4.30  p.  M.,  I  sailed  from 
New  York  on  the  Oceanic.  Captain  Haddock 
watched  for  news  from  any  passing  liner,  and 
when  the  Adriatic  passed  without  any,  it  caused 
a  feeling  of  relief.  On  December  23d,  at  3.40 
p.  m.,  Purser  Lancaster  appeared  with  a  mar- 
conigram  which  bore  the  welcome  tidings,  "Alice 
comfortable."  The  Oceanic  arrived  at  Plymouth 
on  December  24th,  at  7  a.  m.,  and  I  reached 
Southampton,  by  train,  at  2.30  p.  m.  When  I 
arrived,  Alice  was  sitting  up  in  bed,  and  her 
watchful  eye  had  been  the  first  to  see  my  ap- 
proach, from  the  window.  She  shed  a  few  tears 
upon  my  arrival,  but  it  was  like  an  April  shower, 
soon  over.  She  had  on  a  becoming  blue  wrap- 
per, and  her  hair  was  done  up  in  pig-tails  tied 
with  blue  ribbons.  She  looked  so  much  better 
than  I  had  thought  she  would  that  it  was  a  great 
relief,  and  I  felt  hopeful  of  her  recovery.  It  was 
a  great  pleasure  also  to  find  her  so  comfortably 
situated  at  the  Nursing  Home.  She  had  a  large 
room,  looking  out  upon  a  quiet  square  in  the 
middle  of  which  grew  trees  and  shrubs,  where 


the  many  song-birds  of  England  came  to  pay 
their  tribute  to  the  dear  patient.  She  often  spoke 
of  the  singing  of  the  birds,  which  she  greatly  en- 
joyed. Her  bed  was  so  placed  that  she  could, 
when  she  chose,  look  at  the  cheery  open  fire 
which  burned  all  day  long  and  at  night  when 
necessary.  Every  possible  care  and  attention 
was  bestowed  upon  her.  Her  mother  slept  in  the 
same  room  with  her  during  her  entire  illness. 
The  attending  physician  was  Dr.  Howard  Ward, 
and  his  partner,  Dr.  Powell,  was  called  in  con- 
sultation. Both  were  most  skilful  physicians, 
and  were  personally  greatly  liked  by  Alice,  who 
had  the  utmost  confidence  in  them.  Alice  also 
had  the  constant  care  of  two  most  faithful  and 
competent  nurses,  Miss  Tindle  by  day,  and 
Miss  Schilling  at  night.  Several  times  a  day 
Miss  Mocatta  made  cheery  visits.  Alice  could 
not  have  been  in  the  care  of  persons  more  agree- 
able to  her.  She  was  fond  of  them  all,  and  they 
were  devoted  to  her.  It  was  a  great  privilege  that 
we  were  able  to  stay  in  the  Home,  as  it  enabled 
us  to  be  constantly  at  Alice's  side. 

The  weather,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  days 
at  Christmas,  when  it  was  cold  and  chilly,  was 
all  that  could  have  been  desired.    Most  of  the 


30 


time  the  air  was  balmy,  there  was  no  snow,  and 
very  little  rain. 

Sad  as  were  the  circumstances,  it  was  a  great 
privilege  to  spend  Christmas  Day  with  the  dear 
Alice.  She  greatly  enjoyed  preparing  the  numer- 
ous little  gifts  which  she  had,  from  time  to  time, 
purchased  through  her  nurses,  and  placing  them 
in  our  stockings,  which  were  hung  on  her  mantel. 
Alice  herself  received  many  gifts  and  remem- 
brances, and  it  was  a  happy  day  for  the  dear 
girl. 

At  first  she  seemed  to  improve,  and  we  were 
able  to  cable  home  on  December  31st  that  she 
was  slightly  better.  Slowly  but  surely,  however, 
her  inability  to  retain  food  began  to  tell,  and  her 
strength  gradually  grew  less. 

She  always  had  her  best  sleep  in  the  mornings, 
and  it  was  her  custom  to  sleep  until  ten  or  eleven, 
and  sometimes  twelve  o'clock.  On  the  twenty- 
fourth  anniversary  of  our  marriage  (January  9, 
1908)  we  left  Southampton  at  an  early  hour  and 
went  to  Winchester,  twelve  miles  away.  After  a 
most  interesting  visit  there,  we  returned  to  find 
that  Alice  had  awakened  but  a  short  time  before 
our  return.  She  had  not  forgotten  the  anniver- 
sary, and  before  our  arrival  had  sent  out  for 
some  beautiful  jonquils.   When  we  got  back  we 

31 


found  her  sitting  up  in  bed  writing  on  her  card 
the  following  words  to  go  with  the  flowers :  — 

"With  many  happy  returns  of  the  day  from 
Your  loving 

Alice." 

These  were  the  last  words  her  dear  hand  ever 
wrote. 

She  greatly  enjoyed  our  delight  over  the  sur- 
prise she  had  given  us,  and  the  excitement  of  the 
occasion  gave  her  so  much  color  and  life  that  it 
made  us  hopeful  again.  It  was  a  very  happy 
day  —  alas !  our  last  happy  day!  That  night  she 
failed  greatly,  and  we  feared  that  she  would  not 
live  until  morning,  but  her  brave  spirit  rallied 
again.  Although  hope  was  almost  dead  within 
our  hearts,  it  did  not  seem  to  be  in  hers. 

On  January  13th  Dr.  William  Osier  of  Oxford 
was  called  in  consultation.  He  devoted  practically 
the  entire  day  to  Alice,  giving  her  a  thorough 
examination  in  the  morning,  and  returning  in  the 
afternoon  to  see  her  again.  He  showed  the  won- 
derful skill  which  has  placed  him  at  the  head  of 
his  profession,  and  with  it  great  tact,  infusing 
new  courage  into  the  dear  patient.  But  alas !  it 
was  his  sad  duty  to  tell  us  that  there  was  no  hope. 

On  the  following  day  a  large  basket  of  beau- 

82 


tiful  flowers  came  to  Alice  from  Dr.  Osier,  and 
throughout  the  rest  of  her  illness  he  showed  the 
greatest  interest  in  her ;  and  after  the  end,  the 
deepest  sympathy  with  us  in  our  affliction. 

It  was  suggested  that  as  a  last  resort  the  Wright 
serum  treatment  might  be  tried,  and  Dr.  Eastes 
of  London  was  consulted,  but  it  was  decided  not 
to  experiment  with  it,  as  the  end  might  only  be 
hastened. 

A  cable  came  from  Ward  Cotton  Burton,  a 
most  devoted  friend,  saying  that  he  would  sail 
from  New  York  on  January  11th,  on  the  Phila- 
delphia, due  at  Southampton  on  the  18th.  He 
made  the  long  journey,  coming  from  his  home 
in  Minnesota,  more  than  four  thousand  miles 
away,  to  be  at  Alice's  side  in  her  hour  of  peril, 
notwithstanding  the  sad  news  which  reached 
him  by  cable  just  before  he  sailed  saying  that 
Alice  was  dying.  He  reached  Southampton  on 
Saturday,  January  18th,  and  his  coming  brought 
new  life  and  courage  to  us  all,  at  a  time  when  we 
stood  in  the  greatest  need  of  it.  His  presence  and 
wonderful  devotion  were  the  crowning  happiness 
of  Alice's  life. 

Alice  greatly  enjoyed  being  read  to,  and  sev- 
eral hours  each  day  were  devoted  to  reading, 
which  she  followed  closely.    Her  fondness  for 

33 


detective  stories  continued,  and  in  spite  of  her 
physical  weakness,  her  mind  continued  to  be  as 
keen  as  ever,  and  she  followed  the  thread  of  the 
most  intricate  stories  with  her  old-time  sagacity 
and  unerring  judgment. 

Her  wonderful  courage  was  always  present, 
with  the  most  uncomplaining  patience  and  per- 
fect willingness  to  do  what  was  thought  best  for 
her.  She  was  always  cheerful,  and  often  made 
witty  remarks.  She  was  fond  of  lying  with  her 
knees  up,  and  when  her  father  said  to  her  one 
day,  "Alice,  what  do  you  want  to  keep  that  great 
mountain  in  front  of  you  for  ?"  she  said,  "Why, 
don't  you  see,  Father,  that  is  a  Japanese  land- 
scape." 

It  was  most  fortunate  that  she  did  not  have  to 
endure  any  severe  suffering,  but  the  long  last- 
ing fever,  and  the  continually  recurring  nausea, 
and  inability  to  retain  food,  slowly  but  surely 
wore  down  the  brave  spirit  which  was  making 
a  gallant  struggle  for  life  against  such  hopeless 
odds. 

The  daily  fever  ceased  on  the  20th  day  of  Jan- 
uary, after  which  the  temperature  was  below 
normal,  proof  of  her  great  weakness.  After  a 
good  day  she  complained  of  feeling  very  sick  in 
the  evening,  and  the  next  morning  said  that  she 

34 


felt  very  weak.  She  slept  well  for  six  hours  during 
that  day  (21st). 

On  January  22d  she  seemed  very  weak.  Her 
pulse  was  fairly  good,  but  she  seemed  drowsy, 
and  at  4.30  p.  m.  felt  very  sick  and  uncomfortable. 
She  slept  soundly  the  early  part  of  the  night, 
but  was  restless  between  2  and  6  in  the  morning. 

At  quarter  past  five  o'clock  on  the  morning  of 
January  23d  she  had  a  severe  hemorrhage  of  the 
nose.  We  thought  the  end  was  coming.  Dr.  Ward 
was  hastily  summoned  and  responded  quickly. 
He  stopped  the  flow  of  blood  most  skilfully,  but 
only  after  much  difficulty.  Here  dear  Alice  gave 
a  wonderful  illustration  of  her  great  unselfishness 
and  proof  of  her  love  for  her  devoted  mother. 
Although  her  life's  blood  was  rapidly  flowing 
away,  she  had  no  thought  of  herself,  but  only  of 
her  faithful  mother,  who,  overcome  by  the  sight, 
had  thrown  herself,  in  a  fainting  condition,  on 
her  bed,  where  she  thought  Alice  could  not  see 
her.  I  shall  never  forget  the  anxious  look  on 
Alice's  beautiful  face,  as,  utterly  forgetful  of  her- 
self, she  turned  on  her  bed  towards  her  mother, 
saying :  — 

"Father!  Mother  feels  faint.  You  better  look 
out  for  her." 

It  was  a  great  relief  to  us  when  this  fearful 

35 


flow  of  blood  was  stopped,  and  to  hear  the  dear 
Alice  say  that  she  felt  much  better. 

The  next  day  (24th)  Alice  seemed  comfortable, 
and  she  slept  well  that  night  for  more  than  nine 
hours. 

On  January  25th  she  seemed  very  exhausted 
all  day,  and  her  pulse  was  weak.  She  had  short 
sleeps  during  the  night. 

On  Sunday  (26th)  she  seemed  comfortable. 
To  interest  her,  some  dresses  which  had  been 
bought  for  her  were  taken  out,  and  after  admiring 
them  she  said,  "I  am  afraid  that  I  shall  never 
wear  a  dress  again."  This  was  the  first  intima- 
tion that  she  had  given  that  she  did  not  expect  to 
recover. 

She  insisted  on  being  read  to,  as  usual,  and 
showed  that  she  followed  the  reading  closely. 
That  night  she  slept  well,  but  she  became  very 
much  worse  during  the  night. 

The  next  day,  Monday  (27th),  she  was  semi- 
conscious at  times.  This  was  the  last  day  she 
was  read  to.  She  revived  a  little  at  5.40  p.  m. 
During  the  night,  when  her  mother  urged  her  to 
take  some  medicine,  saying,  "You  know,  Alice, 
we  want  you  to  get  well  for  us,"  she  said :  — 

"I  cannot  live  for  you,  but  I  can  die  for  you. 
It 's  so  much  simpler." 

36 


On  Tuesday  (28th)  she  was  semi-conscious  all 
day,  and  her  pulse  was  imperceptible  at  times. 
Poland  Spring  water  was  all  the  nourishment 
she  had  been  able  to  take  for  several  days.  At 
intervals  she  would  regain  consciousness  and 
would  be  refreshed  by  sipping  the  water.  She 
understood  perfectly  what  was  said  to  her  at 
these  times,  and  remained  in  full  possession  of 
her  mental  faculties  until  the  end.  There  was 
the  same  patient  willingness  to  do  whatever  she 
was  told.  We  stayed  with  her  continuously  after 
1  o'clock  on  Tuesday  morning,  doing  all  that 
could  be  done  to  make  her  as  comfortable  as 
possible,  it  being  evident  that  the  end  was  fast 
approaching. 

At  6  o'clock,  Thursday  morning,  she  spoke  for 
the  last  time,  but  only  a  few  of  the  words  could 
be  understood. 

At  7  o'clock  the  beautiful  and  gentle  spirit 
passed  peacefully  away. 


37 


"  The  light  of  her  young  life  went  down, 
As  sinks  behind  the  hill 
The  glory  of  a  setting  star  — 
Clear,  suddenly,  and  still." 

"  As  pure  and  sweet  her  fair  brow  seemed 
Eternal  as  the  sky." 

"  Fold  her,  oh  Father !  in  thine  arms, 
And  let  her  henceforth  be 
A  messenger  of  love  between 
Our  human  hearts  and  Thee." 


38 


On  Friday,  January  31,  1908,  at  11  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  the  long,  sad  journey  home  began. 
It  was  a  beautiful  day,  with  bright  sun  and 
balmy  air.  Starting  from  the  Nursing  Home,  the 
carriage  bearing  the  casket  slowly  wended  its  way 
along  the  main  street  of  Southampton,  passing 
under  the  quaint  old  Bar  Gate,  which  had  so 
greatly  interested  Alice.  No  sadder  hearts  ever 
passed  under  this  ancient  gateway  than  those  of 
the  three  mourners  who  followed  their  sacred 
dead.  Great  homage  was  paid  that  day  by  the 
people  of  Southampton  to  our  dear  Alice.  Fol- 
lowing the  beautiful  English  custom,  nearly 
every  one  on  that  busy  thoroughfare  showed  his 
respect  for  the  dead  by  lifting  his  hat  or  cap. 
Soldiers  saluted,  policemen  did  the  same,  and 
the  conductors  on  the  trams  removed  their  hats. 
It  was  particularly  touching  to  see  the  little  boys, 
many  of  them  poor  and  ragged,  and  the  laborers, 
give  this  evidence  of  gentle  refinement. 

The  American  Consul,  Colonel  Albert  W. 
Swalm,  and  his  wife,  kindly  joined  in  escorting 
the  dear  body  to  its  temporary  resting-place  on 
the  dock  of  the  White  Star  line. 

On  Friday  evening  the  casket  was  placed  on 
board  the  St.  Paul,  a  ship  worthy  of  bearing 
this  precious  burden.  Through  the  rough  winter 


seas  the  St.  Paul  brought  dear  Alice  back  to 
her  homeland. 

The  beautiful  burial  service  of  the  Episcopal 
Church  was  read,  on  the  afternoon  of  Sunday, 
February  16,  1908,  in  the  Chapel  at  Forest  Hills 
Cemetery,  Boston,  Massachusetts,  where  many 
of  Alice's  dear  relatives  and  friends  had  gathered. 
The  service  was  read  by  Rev.  Sumner  M.  Shear- 
man, Rector  of  St.  John's  Church,  Jamaica 
Plain,  which  Alice's  father  had  attended  when  a 
boy.  Once  more  the  sun  shone  brightly,  and  its 
rays,  passing  through  the  stained  glass  windows 
of  the  Chapel,  fell  upon  the  surrounding  palms 
and  American  beauty  roses  and  other  beautiful 
flowers  which  loving  hands  had  placed  upon  the 
casket. 

Two  of  Alice's  favorite  hymns  were  read, 
"Nearer  my  God  to  Thee,"  and  "Abide  with 
me,  Fast  falls  the  Eventide,"  and  after  a  beau- 
tiful and  impressive  service  the  dear  body  was 
returned  to  the  receiving  tomb. 

On  Saturday,  May  9,  1908,  at  11  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  the  sad  funeral  procession  which 
had  started  at  Southampton,  England,  was  re- 
sumed by  the  same  three  faithful  mourners  who 
began  it  three  thousand  miles  away.  The  casket 
which  contained  what  had  been  for  twenty  short 

40 


years  the  beautiful  shrine  of  Alice's  gentle  spirit, 
was  taken  from  the  receiving  tomb  to  the  family 
burial  plot  on  Alyssum  Path.  Each  stroke  of 
the  bell  which  tolled  twenty  times,  one  for  each 
year  of  the  dear  life  which  had  passed  away,  rang 
deep  into  the  hearts  of  the  loving  ones  who  were 
sorrowfully  taking  this  last  journey  with  their 
sacred  and  beloved  dead. 

The  casket  of  English  oak  was  placed  in  a 
concrete  case,  which  will  protect  its  precious  con- 
tents as  long  as  rock  will  last,  and  lowered  into 
its  resting-place,  carrying  with  it  the  hearts  of 
those  who  were  left  behind. 


41 


HER  ROOM 

By  Margaret  Bartlett  Cable 

This  is  her  room.  Let  no  one  enter  here 
Who  enters  not  with  brave-eyed  cheerfulness. 
What  though  its  silence  wound  thy  heart  anew 
And  each  dear  object  mock  thy  loneliness ; 
What  though  the  patient  place  her  image  lack, 
Is  grief  so  selfish  it  would  call  her  back? 
This  is  her  room.  Let  no  one  enter  here 
Who  comes  not  in  with  loving  cheerfulness. 

Ay,  this  is  still  her  room.  Turn  not  away 

Till  in  thy  heart  is  sweet  assurance  born 

That  hence  her  presence  has  but  seemed  to  fade, 

As  some  soft  star  fades  in  the  blue  of  morn, 

And  that  her  spirit  hovers  here  to  bless 

Our  aching  hearts  with  soothing  tenderness. 

This  is  her  room.  Turn  not  away  until 

Praise,  love,  and  cheer  are  in  thy  heart  new-born ! 


Her  room  at  home  has  been  kept  as  she  left  it. 
42 


A  FAVORITE  HYMN 

Jesus,  tender  Shepherd,  hear  me ; 

Bless  Thy  little  lamb  to-night; 
Through  the  darkness  be  Thou  near  me ; 

Keep  me  safe  till  morning  light. 

All  this  day  Thy  hand  has  led  me, 
And  I  thank  Thee  for  Thy  care ; 

Thou  hast  warmed  me,  clothed  and  fed  me; 
Listen  to  my  evening  prayer ! 

Let  my  sins  be  all  forgiven ; 

Bless  the  friends  I  love  so  well: 
Take  us  all  at  last  to  heaven, 

Happy  there  with  Thee  to  dwell. 


43 


ALICE 

"  Oh,  who  can  forget  the  mild  light  of  her  smile, 
Over  lips  moved  with  music  and  feeling  the  while  — 
The  eye's  deep  enchantment,  dark,  dream-like,  and  clear, 
In  the  glow  of  its  gladness,  —  the  shade  of  its  tear." 

"  And  the  charm  of  her  features,  while  over  the  whole 
Played  the  hues  of  the  heart  and  the  sunshine  of  soul,  — 
And  the  tones  of  her  voice,  like  the  music  which  seems 
Murmured  low  in  our  ear  by  the  Angel  of  dreams ! " 


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